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Roast Elk and Politics
Sprouting Keg Tavern ---- ::''When Gamlon Seamel established the crossroads village of Silkfield nearly six centuries ago, he entered a partnership with Lannak Lomasa to build and manage this tavern: The Sprouting Keg. ::''With walls of polished shardwood, a riverstone floor strewn with amber rushes and silky husks, the tavern has a V-shaped biinwood serving counter and about two dozen tables beneath angled rafters. The fireplace can be found in the corner common area, where weary travelers can sit in chairs without tables and contemplate the flames while they relax and talk. ---- Without his usual festoonments of armor, tabards, and silk cloak, Norran doesn't stand out as much as he usually does. Dressed plainly in noble opinion but still enough to rival that of the wealthiest freelander merchant, Norran's brown cloak rests on the back of his chair and his baldric with sheathed sabre rests within immediate reach on his table near the tavern's bar. A half-finished steak rests on his plate before him, while he sips idly from a stein of ale in his hand. His demeanor is the usual, a faint grin across his lips as he looks across the tavern. It is a temperate evening as the sun sets beyond the horizon to the west. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. The sky is filled by dark, low clouds. The sky is moonless, a portent of Shadow strength. Farrel sweeps in, still dripping from the recently passed storm, pulling back the hood of that coat of his as he goes. His path is one that takes him in the direction of the bar, his expression oddly introspective and flat - dinner, it seems, is an unwelcome distraction at best. One thing Norran seems to be doing between sips and bites is watching the door. Noticing new arrivals, watching them for a moment, before resuming whatever it was he was doing. Farrel's arrival causes the youthful Duke to grin, rapping a knuckle loudly on his table and calling, "Cousin! So good to see you, why don't you join me, hm?" In that instant - that thoughtful, dark expression vanishes - Farrel first flashing a smile.. and then locating the source of that call, raising an eyebrow to join in that grin. "Your grace! Certainly - allow me a moment to find my own semblance of dinner?" He nods to the bar - already leaning over to order, quickly. "Of course! Take your time. I'd warn you, though: The wine is horrific, but the ale is good. Not surprising of the Seamels. I'd stay away from the pheasant, as well. All bones!" advises Norran, pausing to grin further before taking another bite of his steak. It doesn't take at all long to arrange for a decent meal - the roast elk and a passable, though not at all excellent, white from Nillu vinyards. Farrel bears his trophies back to the table with his Patriarch, sweeping a slght bow before settling in across from the man. "I've tasted horror - and it certainly wasn't Seamel wine. Faugh. The Kahar blues are absolutely painful." He chuckles, softly - "What brings you down this far south, your grace? I'd thought I were the only one of the family with business interests here." "We've Lomasas all over Fastheld, Cousin. My mother, sister and her children also reside nearby to the southwest, but I haven't come to see them. Merely wandering, watching. I'm dressed a bit more simply than usual and riding a less-than-remarkable horse, reliable and trustworthy, but not exactly bred with the highest standards. I get a better reception when people don't notice I'm a Duke right away," explains Norran with a quick grin, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms as he looks over Farrel. "You've interests here, then? Anything I can do to help? I've not seen you in quite awhile, what exactly /have/ you been up to? And did those men I sent reach you?" "they did, in fact and thank you, very much. I installed them at the Castle of the Hours until I'd somewhere to keep them where keeping them in the style they are accustomed were a practical reality, when they've not been accompanying me on cartage." Farrel tucks in to dinner, smiling still. "actually, I've been negotiating with Arturo - a positively facinating man. I'll be able to move those men to the Silver Havens within the week." At mention of Arturo, Norran arches a brow high. "Arturo?" he jests, laughing aloud. "My, my, has the Count actually crawled out from under his rock? Promising. Despite my jests of him, I've always held him in high regard. Some would say that if he weren't so secluded all this time and if I had remained dead, he'd be Duke instead of I. Honestly, I don't value the position so greatly that I'd mind it. But I can help our House far better from here, Duke or Count doesn't mean so much to me. The only difference is that more people seem to know and disdain me than usual," muses the other Lomasa with a light snicker. "And what has he said? And what business do you have at Silver Havens? That's my ex-wife's territory now, I believe." "Actually - mine." Farrel says that quite seriously. "Provided I make it considerably more productive than it currently is. It is, however, good land - and it has a great deal of potential." Wryly - "My dream has always been a vinyard - this is a bit more substantial, but I shall not complain, no." The nobleman considers that. "Why do you say they disdain you, your grace? Pretend I know nothing - I am interested in your opinion." "Because they outright assume power has corrupted me and it's very convenient to blame me for things, being where I am. I'm used to it, though, Cousin, I wouldn't worry. Not a one would speak it to my face for fear of the consequences at my hand, so I hold their words to mean very little if they can't even stand for themselves," Norran adds with a shrug and a chuckle. "You've taken ahold of it? Impressive! I must ask how, and what of this Castle of Hours? To my knowledge, either Arturo or his wife had taken ahold of it. Done little with it, of course, shameful of a Lomasa couple to have land and use it for no celebratory good!" "Indeed - Dianna's taken to managing the Castle; we've quietly been arranging for a fete within the next few weeks." Farrel's eyes sparkle. "something to put that Kahar's masque to positive shame, and I shall be sure he has an invitation. Despite your friction with Dianna, I would call it a great personal honor if you would find the time to attend - both you and m'lady Milora. I will bring the invitations by personally, once we've a firm date." He smiles, swallowing a bit of Elk. "May I speak plainly, your grace?" "Any friction I have with Dianna is of her doing. She used to make a point of vehemently hating nobility, like my sister, and yet she's been allowed to return to this House. I've seen her show little of her ability to be grateful of it, but perhaps she's realized otherwise by now. I tease her excessively, perhaps, but that's all I have toward her," honestly replies Norran, folding his hands on the table as he tilts his head curiously toward Farrel. "Of course you may. And I'm curious of how you aquired Silver Havens, for if it is legitimate and permenant, I'd have a little bit of work to do." "it is. I await Arturo's official seal - but the deal was indeed struck." Farrel leans back - "And singleminded purpose, in fact, proved a far greater weal than anything else, that, and pointing out he let his land lie fallow. I will be beholden to him for some time, a tribute owed for nigh-on years, but.. a willing sacrifice." He steeples his fingers. "Cousin - your reputation among the other houses concerns me. I would - with your permission - like to help you." That's blount, and honest. "My reputation? Well, I'm on good enough standing with House Kahar's new Duke. House Seamel's Duke is my brother-in-law, and he's probably the most amiable of the House Leaders I know. Duke Nillu and I are on good standing...The only people I can think of that could possibly outwardly /dislike/ me is the Emperor, which I'd grant is most assuredly more nuetral than not, and perhaps Rowena. She and I have been on good enough terms and I've known her for quite awhile, but I'll never know just how Celeste may have gotten to her with her baseless accusations just to uphold her own word. But, otherwise, I think I'm rather well-liked to those who are /important/, the higher echelons of the Houses and my own house. But...do continue. You can never have too good a reputation," suggests Norran with a sort of 'go ahead' gesture of his hand, raising his brows further as he strokes at his beard with his free hand. "Arturo had claim on it? Hm. I always thought that Sahna had control of it, which she gave to her mother who in turn gave to Katriana, but I know Arturo. He wouldn't just hand something away he didn't know was his. I'll have to ask about it. Well then," he pauses, tapping a knuckle on the table again. "Let it be known that, once this transaction is complete, you will therefore qualify and be known as Viscount Farrel Lomasa." Farrel Lomasa chuckles, softly, inclining his head. "I will keep you informed, your grace - you honor me." He pauses, putting thoughts together. "Important..." He frowns. "Well. Perhaps you've more of a grasp than I - I am certainly unimportant in my own right, and those whom I speak with lack any great direct influence themselves. It is the nature of the peerage, I suppose, that my exposure to the other Houses is by default a great deal less than your own, and in lesser spheres." "I mean my own House as a /whole/, Farrel, don't assume me such a tyrant quite yet," Norran replies with a chuckle, waving a hand dismissively. "I was merely implying that those who might have agendas against me usually are in no state to do anything, especially with the only cause that they merely dislike me. Minor troubles, I assure you. I act in the best interests of all Lomasas, and I could care less if some not of our House disagree with how I go about it. Simple as that." "I actually see little within the house that speaks to dissent." Farrel's quite serious - "The Lomasas do have some concern about your plans outside of Riverhold - or your perhaps lack thereof, but I have faith that they mostly worry about your youth, not your abilities." He picks up his goblet, swirling the wine within. "What is this Celeste lying about? I've met her in passing - I cannot truly recall much about her beyond the typical Mikin blonde hair and a certain chill." "She's become a bit obsessed over that monestary of hers, lately. She also takes any sort of criticism as an insult, and will never admit she's wrong. She means well, but with that personality, meaning well doesn't always help. It's little to trouble yourself over, unfortunate as it may be to lose someone who was once a friend, I'm certain she'll reach her bottom soon enough," answers Norran, breathing a deep sigh. "A lack of interest outside Riverhold? There's little for me to do, really, rather than watch and make sure everything's in order. I visit Elkmont and Westwatch as often as I can." "Hmm. In everything there is opportunity - and if it can, even remotely, threaten the House... I know my duty." Farrel inclines his head. "But I will be guided in you by that." He smiles, then. "A wedding would help matters internally, I suspect. Milora is a sweet girl, if my memory serves - and a child would go farther still. Have you given thought to a date?" "Soon is all I know. The end of next month, perhaps, Milora's been in a flurry with planning as far as I know. We'll make sure we send out notice early enough. That's as much as I can gather." Norran takes a deep drink of his stein, settling it down and stretching his arms. "She'll make an excellent Duchess, I'm sure. Few will complain with how busy she'll try to be." "If you require help - either in the planning or the execution - you know I am at your disposal, your grace." Farrel is quite serious indeed. "All of my contacts and expertise, such as it is, are yours - with luck, you will give me enough notice to create a suitable gift." Another hand waved in dismissal, "Again, something you'd have to talk to Milora about. As far as things are, I can't involve myself too much as of yet. And as honored as I would be at a gift, you've no need to strain yourself if you don't wish." This said, Norran returns to his steak. "Any other issues you could think to bring up with me?" "bah. A gift is customary - and more than that, a wedding is a cause for celebration." Farrel smiles. "I intend on converting one of the buildings in the Haven's to a fermentation cellar; I am simply hoping I'll have it done in time to have a vintage working in your honor." He considers. "Nothing that I can think of, your grace. I am a man of few needs, in these days." "I look forward to what you turn your newly gained property into. I have great faith in your abilities," assures Norran, beaming a smile at FArrel before taking a final swig of his ale and rising to collect his cloak and sabre. "Well, let me know if you need anything. Night is afoot, meaning I can gallop about without worrying about tripping over any caravans. I'll take my leave. Very good seeing you again, Baron, and good luck. Light keep you." Farrel Lomasa inclines his head. "Your grace - thank you. And may your ventures - and skulking about - " He winks - that's a light joke, it seems - "be fruitful." ---- ''Return to Season 6 (2007) Category:Logs